


It's Always Been You

by Lisamc21



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: And a blizzard, Angst with a Happy Ending, But more best friends to sort of former friends to lovers, But the angst event happens before the story starts, Coming Out, Friends to Lovers, M/M, The angst in this fic is all the healing, This fic is pro therapy, there's only one bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:55:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27768622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisamc21/pseuds/Lisamc21
Summary: After two years, David still feels the absence of Patrick in his life like a never healing wound. But when a blizzard throws Patrick in David's life again, they have a second chance to get things right. Plus, there's only one bed.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 39
Kudos: 293
Collections: Schitt's Creek: Frozen Over (2020)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [SCFrozenOver2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SCFrozenOver2020) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> There's a storm. Someone gets rescued or snowed in. There's only one bed! GASP!
> 
> \---
> 
> For those hesitant about angst, here's some info about the particular flavor of angst in this fic. An angsty thing happened two years before this fic begins. All of the written angst is the emotions and difficult feelings stemming from that event that are healed and talked out in this fic. There is a happily ever after. <3
> 
> Also, CW warning for a coming out thread and some related internal struggles connected to it that are briefly mentioned.

David looked out the window of Rose Apothecary and grimaced at the onslaught of snow barreling down. If he didn’t operate the only place in Schitt’s Creek for people to buy blizzard essentials like scented candles and alpaca throws, he’d have stayed home and binged reality TV all day without having to brave the shit weather. But as the snow fell faster and the depth on the ground grew high enough to cover his shoes, he’d compromise and close early. He shot a quick text to Twyla so she could help spread the word to anyone coming in the cafe. 

The bell over the door dinged. He looked up and grimaced again. The special, full-body grimace only one person brought out in him. “Roland. Hello.”

“Good afternoon, Davey. Staying dry?” Roland shook the snow off his coat and drops went flying all over the door and front display. It took all of David’s self control to not pelt the man with bottles of body milk, but that would make more of a mess than Roland’s barn-raised behavior created. 

“I am. Staying indoors helps with that.”

Roland laughed, and David flared his nostrils. “Got any more of that massage oil?”

David plastered his customer service smile. “Sure do.” He hoped if he didn’t say anything else, Roland wouldn’t elaborate on its use.

“Joc and I have been going through that stuff almost as fast as the foot cream.”

Ew. “Glad you’re enjoying the products.” David retrieved one of the massage oils and rung the mayor up as fast as he could. The less face time with Roland the better.

After Roland left, his phone buzzed with a text from Stevie.

You still open?  
  
Ya, but gonna close early  
  
Sending a motel guest your way to get a couple of things  
  
[thumbs up emoji]  
  
Wine and TV tonight til the power goes out?  
  
obvs  
  


He launched Instagram to kill some time while he waited for Stevie’s guest to come by. The top notification was of a photo memory from two years ago, and he tapped it before his brain could sound the alarm. 

David’s heart leapt in his throat as a photo of he and Patrick filled his phone. Their heads tilted together with David’s arm around Patrick’s shoulders, and Patrick’s arm around David’s waist. Huge smiles and red cheeks from the craft beer they’d been tasting for their college friend’s bachelor party.

The weekend everything had fallen apart. The weekend that the man David loved basically disappeared from his life with no thought for the decade they’d spent as best friends. One drunken kiss and Patrick had fled to Toronto like a Canada goose heading south for winter. With David moving to Schitt’s Creek and starting a business, it felt like an ocean separated them instead of a couple hour’s drive. At least he’d been busy enough with the store he’d barely had time to pine over the black hole in his life called Patrick Brewer. Well, barely meant nearly every night in the space between the bustle of the day and sleep always eluding him.

A kiss that he’d dreamt of since he’d met Patrick in college. A kiss that felt righter than anything in his life until the soft, pleased smile on Patrick’s face had morphed into shock. Until his closed eyes opened in panic. Until Patrick had made excuses as he rushed away and barely spoke to David the rest of the weekend. Until Patrick pretended David didn’t exist at their friend’s wedding the next month. Until Patrick got a job in Toronto and moved away without telling David. Finding out on Instagram had been so fucking fun. 

Wasn’t time supposed to heal all wounds? Two years may have dulled the pain of Patrick’s brutal rejection, but a deep ache grew steadily each day as the absence of Patrick in David’s life grew more noticeable. Each time Patrick’s birthday passed or they didn’t make their annual trip to see the cherry blossoms or when his phone stayed silent when Patrick would normally text a running commentary on the baseball draft thingie. Patrick had worked his way into every part of David’s life over the years, and now the patchwork of his life looked like Swiss cheese with Patrick-sized holes all over.

Meeting Stevie had helped, but a lot of the time he found himself wanting to tell Patrick about her or share stories about Patrick with Stevie. And dating in Schitt’s Creek? A fucking joke.

After one more lingering look at the smile no longer a part of his daily life, he closed Instagram and focused on getting a start on his closing tasks. Anything to get his brain thinking about something else. Even sweeping was preferable to moping over someone who didn’t care enough about him, or their friendship, to have a fucking conversation. David went back into the storeroom to retrieve the broom. 

The entry bell dinged and he stepped through the curtain to greet Stevie’s motel guest.

“Hi, how can I—“ David froze as his breath left his body. He took in the familiar figure with snow on the shoulders of his blue parka and a toque pulled over his ears. “P-Patrick?” Surely it couldn’t be. Just another adorable man with red cheeks and owlish honey-whiskey eyes.

“Hi, David.” Patrick smiled tentatively at him. He knew that smile. It was the one he’d used plenty of times over the years when he wasn’t sure whether David would respond happily or have a meltdown in response to something Patrick was about to tell him.

A really fucking appropriate smile because David oscillated between wanting to wrap Patrick in his arms and throttle the hell out of him.

“Why are you here?” The words were harsh and short, but there was no way he’d be able to manage anything else. 

Patrick stepped further into the store, but still hugged the entrance. “It’s good to see you.”

David leaned the broom against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “So good to see me that you couldn’t let me know you were going to just _pop by_ after two years of radio silence?”

He had the grace to look chagrined. “The store looks amazing.” Patrick shoved his hands in his coat pockets and looked around.

“Thank you,” David managed. “You’re dodging my question.”

Patrick laughed. “Still calling me out on my shit, huh?”

“Obviously.” David wouldn’t be charmed by him. He worked quickly to erect as thirty-story walls around his heart as fast as he could. Before the curls peeking out under his toque could charm him or the pallid tone to his skin could worry him.

“Can I come in?”

“You’re literally already in here.”

Patrick sighed and his shoulders dropped like all hope and fight left him. David pressed his fingertips into the back of his arm to stop himself from going over and comforting him. “I was on my way to visit my parents and my tire went flat. I changed it to my spare, but didn’t want to go the rest of the way on that in this storm.” He shrugged. David had watched that shrug cover all kinds of sins over the years. “I was only about twenty minutes from here.”

“So you thought you’d pop into this tiny town and get a new tire instead of Elmdale or Elm Glen or, really, any of the other larger towns near here?”

Patrick took a step forward and lifted his chin. “I knew you lived here and owned this store. I decided to take a chance and see if you’d put me up for the night.”

David blinked. And blinked again. The guy had balls. “How did you know where I live?”

“Instagram.”

“O-okay.” David’s mind spun. Patrick still looked at his Instagram? He hadn’t seen his name pop up on the list of people who watched his stories, not like he checked every single time for Patrick’s name or anything.

“Do you have a bathroom? I’d like to dry off so I don’t keep dripping on your floor.”

David pointed to the back of the store. “There’s some towels under the sink.” Patrick offered a half smile as he passed by the counter. Once Patrick was out of sight, David scrambled for his phone. 

please for the love of all that is holy tell me you have a vacancy  
  
why? Looking to downgrade your mattress comfort for a night?  
  
Patrick just showed up in my store  
  
Wait  
  
Patrick Patrick? The guy you’ve been in love with since college?  
  
I’m not in love with him  
  
and yes  
  
uh why is he here  
  
going to his parents and had a tire issue  
  
damn  
  
so… vacancy?  
  
sorry, all booked  
  
not even a closet he can crash in?  
  
blizzard has brought in lots of people  
  
sorry  
  
maybe you’ll work things out?  
  
yeah right  
  
can he crash with you?  
  
no  
  
be an adult  
  
fuck  
  
you’ll be fine  
  


The door chimed again. 

“Hi, the woman at the motel sent me over? I hope I caught you before you closed.”

David nodded and slid his phone in his pocket. He noticed Patrick in his peripheral vision, but tried to ignore him as he helped the woman out. Patrick moved around the store, examining the products and managing to stay nearly opposite from David the whole time. 

David’s hands shook slightly as he rang up the woman’s purchases. He asked her about where she’s from and why she’s in town, and nearly invited her to a game of Monopoly to delay the inevitable conversation with Patrick. As he watched the woman leave with a smile and a wave, his anxiety cranked up to twenty. He fiddled with the iPad for a moment.

A few items appeared in front of him on the counter and now gloveless fingers. David looked up. “I’d like to buy these.” Patrick had unzipped his coat, which was, thankfully, no longer dripping on his floor.

Shampoo, facial moisturizer, and hand lotion. David cleared his throat. “Would you like a gift receipt?”

“No, thanks. They’re for me.”

David’s head snapped up. “For you?”

Patrick shrugged. “You always told me I needed to treat my skin and hair better.”

“And you think buying incorrect things are going to do it?” David pressed his lips together before he said anything else or before he commented on the new twinkle in Patrick’s eyes. His body ached to lean across the counter and pull Patrick into a long hug. Purely muscle memory or something.

“Will you help me pick out the right things?”

David finally got a good look at Patrick with only the counter separating them. Two years probably weren’t long enough to show on someone’s face, but he couldn’t help but notice dark under-eye bags on his pale skin. He expected the crinkles at his eyes to be more pronounced as Patrick had always been so quick to laugh deeply and often, but they looked the same.

“Yes. I can’t have you fucking up your skin and hair further and it reflecting poorly on my store.”

One side of Patrick’s mouth quirked up into that little smile he had always used when he was particularly fond of David’s antics. His knees nearly gave out at the sight. 

“Right. Well.” He grabbed the items and began moving around the store as though he was simply helping any random customer. Not Patrick. The man who David had randomly sat next to in the intro to business course he’d taken his first semester of college to meet his general education requirements. The man who’d sat next to David that same afternoon in a drawing 101 course Patrick needed for his own gen eds. They’d become fast friends and tutored each other through the semester. But it was the classes they’d continued taking together throughout college that had cemented their lifelong friendship. Or, at least, David had assumed it would be lifelong like a chump. 

Two years ago, he would have sworn nothing could have gotten between them. They’d survived all the assholes David dated and Patrick’s on-again-off-again with Rachel. But David kissing Patrick (or Patrick kissing David, it was still unclear) on a trip had been too fucking much for Patrick Brewer. David could have moved on. Somehow. Shoved the feelings of how right Patrick’s lips against his felt, how great his hands felt around his waist, how Patrick’s happy sigh sounded to his ears. Shoved those feelings right into a locked box alongside his unrequited love for the baseball-loving numbers nerd. 

He could have moved on and saved their friendship, but at the end of the day, being in each other’s lives mattered more to David than Patrick. And he’d made his peace with that. Mostly. Sort of. Okay, not at all.

“We both know you have curly hair, and we both know you’ve never listened to my advice on caring for that. Please, for the love of God, use shampoo for curly hair.” He swapped the shampoo bottle out and didn’t look at Patrick. “Using moisturizer for oily skin on your dry skin is a crime. Not on my watch.” He almost felt normal, like the last two years hadn’t happened. Teasing Patrick was as natural as breathing. And fuck, it cracked his heart wide open. Bleeding all his boxed up feelings all over the floor at Rose Apothecary. Swallowing around the lump in his throat, he swapped out the moisturizer bottle. “I don’t know why I picked up the hand lotion. You’re an adult and can make your own choices on what you like. What smell you or your, um, whoever, likes.”

“What scent do you like?” Patrick’s voice cracked. “Or recommend.”

David’s back was to Patrick, so he took the opportunity to squeeze his eyes closed and think for a moment, just one second of fantasy for an alternate life where Patrick took David’s likes into consideration for his lotion and cologne and aftershave purchases. Where that kiss had meant something to both of them and they’d finally started dating. That they’d been together the last two years. Squashing down the shame, he changed the grapefruit and mint lotion for the sage and sandalwood. “This one smells great. I think you’ll like it. You always seemed to gravitate toward earthy scents too.”

Squaring his shoulders and holding his head high, he returned to the register. He could do this. He could ring Patrick up, take him back to his place and make awkward small talk for a couple of hours until he faked a headache to go to sleep early. In his studio apartment where Patrick would be too damn close the entire night. Fuck. _Fuck_! Maybe if he got lucky, Patrick would be gone before he woke up, so he could spend the rest of the day (week? month? life?) trying to pretend Patrick’s abrupt arrival was a fever dream. 

All he had to do was steer clear of discussing the incident, happy memories, his anguish, any memories, really. Easy peasy. If only he’d actually paid attention all the times Patrick had tried to teach him about sports, he’d be able to keep Patrick on safe topics all night. 

Patrick unscrewed the hand lotion cap and sniffed. “You’re right. That smells great. Thank you.”

“Mmhmm.” He rung Patrick up in silence, decidedly not giving him the friends and family discount. Patrick was lucky he didn’t get a former-best-friend-who-abandoned-him-like-trash markup. He put the items in a tote bag so Patrick got the full Rose Apothecary experience and could see how well David was doing. 

With the transaction complete, David clasped his fingers together on the counter and looked out the window. His mind whirred with a thousand thoughts out of reach. He felt almost trapped in his body and unable to decide on one thought. One action to carry him through to the conclusion of the torture. His anxiety could be such a prick.

“What time do you close?”

Right. Close. He was going to close. “Um, usually six, but I was going to close early because of that.” He waved a hand toward the window.

“Put me to work.” Patrick took off his toque and, shit, David hadn’t had enough time to brace himself to see Patrick with a mop of wet curls on his head. He hadn’t seen his hair that long since… since college. After they’d graduated, a tidy corporate haircut became the go-to Patrick chic. Patrick ruffled his hair, and David winced at the callous mistreatment of curls and the drops flying off his head in David’s direction. 

“You could use one of those towels on your hair.” He pointedly looked at the drops of water on the counter. Annoyance was safer territory than curl pining. Because running his fingers through those curls would be so goddamn—

“Sorry. I’ll grab a towel and clean that up. What else can I do?” As always, Patrick brushed off David’s attitude. “Want me to sweep?” He gestured toward the broom propped up beside David.

“Uh, sure. Thanks.”

“Least I could do for you putting me up tonight.” He flashed David a quick, closed-mouth smile as he walked to the bathroom. 

Though David hadn’t actually agree, they both knew he didn’t have a choice in the situation. Patrick knew David never appreciated being cornered. Then again, the masochist in him was so fucking happy to see Patrick again. Nope. NO. No way. Not going there. Not yet. Not until Patrick’s brake lights were well beyond the Schitt’s Creek sign.

David walked over to flip the sign to closed and lock the door. 

“What should I do with the towels?”

“We’ll bring them back with us and I’ll throw them in the laundry at home.” _We’ll. Home._ Ugh.

Patrick wiped down the counter and grabbed the broom. David walked over to the counter and began going through his closing process on the iPad. From the corner of his eye, he watched as Patrick used a dirty towel to wipe the worst of the wet spots off the floor near the door, including wiping up Roland’s mess, then wrapped the less dirty towel around the dirtier one. Thoughtful asshole.

He dragged out the process as long as he could, but the worsening weather and darkening skies forced him to quit stalling. It’s just that silence in the store was justified. Silence in his tiny studio with Patrick would be… awkward.

Patrick walked around the store and straightened things like he owned the place. David left crescent-shaped marks on his forefinger as he dug his thumbnail into the flesh. He did his best to ignore the image of Patrick running the store with him. Dealing with all the paperwork and taxes and accounting and all the shit David hated and Patrick was great at. 

With a final pass through the store to make note of what to restock in the morning, he paused at the hair products. Before he could talk himself out of it, David picked up a jar of the pomade he used. “Here.” He avoided Patrick’s fingertips when he passed him the jar.

“What’s this?”

“If you’re going to insist on having longer hair, the least you could do is honor the curls you were born with by _styling_ them. Air drying is not a style.”

“Okay, David.” _Okay, David._ Those two words sent a knife right through his sternum. If he weren’t about ready to crumple over from the pain, he’d be smiling because, like one of Pavlov’s dogs. The way Patrick said those words always pulled a reluctant smile fro him. But not today. Not this David Rose. Patrick looked at him with wide eyes. The little shit knew it too. What the hell was he doing? Trying to inflict as much damage as he could before fleeing town? He wished he could believe Patrick was that malicious, but he wasn’t. He was a great man. Scared, a shit communicator, and someone who ran when things got tough. But David wasn’t perfect either. He could read Patrick like an open book and instinctively knew the last two years had been just as hard on him, but David wasn’t about to set his own grief and anger aside to make Patrick feel better. If Patrick wanted something to change, he had to fucking work for it.

Fuck. He was already rationalizing. He needed to get the night over with.

Patrick reached into his back pocket. 

“Nope. On the house.” Paying it forward to whoever got to enjoy those curls in all their glory.

Patrick frowned. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He walked into the storeroom to suit up for the cold. A couple minutes later, he returned to the front. He ignored the soft smile on Patrick’s face as he took in David all bundled up with a toque on. “Do you want to leave your car here and ride with me or follow me?”

“How far away do you live?”

“I live close enough that I should be embarrassed by driving, but in this weather, I’m not walking.”

Patrick smirked. “I’ll ride with you so my car stays closer to the garage. In case something happens to the spare.”

David nodded and turned off the lights. “My car is out back. I’ll drive us around to your car so you can grab whatever you need.” He felt Patrick walking behind him. Pushing open the back door, David walked toward a night with Patrick. 


	2. Chapter 2

Silence. Silence as they drove. Silence as they walked up to his place. Silence as they shed their winter gear. The silence grew too loud for David to take. “Make yourself comfortable.” He gestured to the loveseat in his tiny home. “Want some tea?”

Patrick’s eyebrows shot up. “You drink tea now?”

Was there a casual way to say _I’ve kept tea in my home consistently since I learned in college you drink it instead of coffee_? When the last box of earl grey had expired, he’d told himself he wouldn’t buy another one because Patrick wasn’t in his life any longer. But somehow it had ended up in his shopping cart last spring and taunted him every time David had to rummage around in his cupboard. “No, but I have some.” He walked over the sink and filled his electric kettle.

David noticed Patrick shivering slightly. “Do you want to take a shower and warm up? I can finish this while you’re in there.”

Patrick gave him a soft upside down smile. “Actually, that sounds great, thanks. I didn’t realize I got so cold while changing the tire.”

David walked over to the tiny closet near the bathroom and retrieved towels for him. He placed them on the toilet lid, then went back to the kitchen. “Help yourself to any of the toiletries.” He looked over when Patrick walked to the bathroom. He had a bundle of clothes and a toiletry bag and… the curly hair shampoo. Oh.

While Patrick showered, completely naked on the other side of the door, David retrieved his French press, coffee grounds, tea bags, sugar, and milk. 

When the bathroom door opened, David had the drinks poured and tea steeped. “Do you still take a splash of milk and one sugar?”

“Yeah.” Patrick sounded… breathy. David didn’t dare turn to look at whatever emotions screamed from Patrick’s billboard eyes. 

David should have pretended he couldn’t remember, but muscle memory of fixing Patrick tea a thousand times through their friendship was hard to forget. Late night study sessions, early morning classes, Patrick cooking David brunch on weekends when they lived in the same apartment building for a couple of years in their mid-twenties, when they’d visit each other during the years they lived in different cities. He knew Patrick’s tea preferences as well as his own coffee ones.

David busied himself with tidying his already tidy kitchen while the tea steeped and French press did its thing. He could no longer justify the delay, so he fixed their drinks and turned around and found Patrick standing at the mantle over his still broken fireplace. He really needed to call his landlord again. 

David walked over and handed the mug to Patrick. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” One side of Patrick’s mouth shifted into a half smile. A few drops of water ran down his neck and disappeared into the cotton of his navy Henley. Patrick’s curls took David’s breath away. It looked like Patrick had carefully patted his hair to keep the definition. If he did that, then- no. He wasn’t going there.

David turned to look where Patrick had been staring, and his breath caught. Fuck. _Fuck_. Goddamit. Only a few photos sat on his mantle, but it was obvious which had Patrick’s undivided attention. Not the one of he and Stevie unpacking boxes while setting up the store, or he and his family celebrating Christmas in New York a few years ago, or an old one of he and Adelina, or the one with David proudly standing under the Rose Apothecary sign. 

No. It was the one of he and Patrick dressed in _used_ and _dirty_ Old West clothes in one of those awful sepia photos. He’d complained the entire time Patrick dragged him around that fair, detailing all the possible diseases lurking in the clothes that got passed around from among the sweaty fairgoers. But on Patrick’s birthday, David couldn’t have denied him anything. So they got the fucking photo because Patrick had begged and it was the cutest goddamn thing ever. Patrick in a vest and a bandana around his neck like a saloon owner and David in a large coat and a cowboy hat with a sheriff’s badge. Everything about the scene was horrific, but their smiles stood as proof that they really meant something to each other. David rarely had the nerve to look at the photo anymore, but he also didn’t have the nerve to keep it hidden. 

If Patrick noticed the wetness in David’s eyes, he didn’t say anything, just as David didn’t say anything about the sheen in Patrick’s. 

“So.”

“So,” Patrick replied as he turned toward David after another look at the photo.

“How’s Toronto?” David moved to sit down on the couch. He’d rather sit too close to Patrick than keep that photo in his direct peripheral vision.

Patrick blew out a breath. “That should be easy to answer.”

It should be. It’s the most basic of small talk questions David could think of. “It’s not?”

Patrick dropped onto the couch next to him. David pointedly ignored the added heat of Patrick’s body near him and the waft of David’s teak and cedar body wash that smell too fucking good on him. 

“I’ve got a good job.”

“Okay.”

“I should like it.” He rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward while cupping his mug.

David tucked his legs under him. “I guess if you’re a robot whose sole life meaning comes from work, sure.”

Patrick barked out a laugh. “God, I really mis-“ He cleared his throat. “Yeah.” David’s heart stopped for a moment. He wasn’t sure if he wanted Patrick to finish that sentence or not. It would be nice to know he’d been missed, but that knowledge would probably send him in another tailspin. “I work so much, it’s hard to have time for things. I don’t even play baseball anymore.”

“I get it. I work long hours too. It’s just me at the store, which doesn’t leave much room for anything else.” At least they had that in common. He bit his tongue to stop himself from asking if he was seeing anyone. He’d seen on social media that Rachel was with someone else now, so he knew they weren’t together ay longer. For the time being, anyway. They were like two skewed, off-center magnets always finding their way back to each other. Never quite connecting as completely as they should.

He took a sip of his scalding coffee. “Is it the kind of work you want to be doing at least?” No way in hell they’d be able to fill an entire evening with small talk. They already knew all the inane shit about each other, and they couldn’t talk about the weather for four hours. Now that he knew Patrick wasn’t thriving as much as he’d expected, he wanted all the gory details to keep himself company in the cold nights after Patrick left again. Was he an asshole? Of course. Did he care? Not a fucking bit.

“I thought I did, but now I’m not so sure.” Patrick leaned back on the couch. Seeing Patrick in this space threw David off kilter. He never expected Patrick to be anywhere near Schitt’s Creek, let alone in his store or home. He hated how good Patrick looked in his space. How much it hurt to see him there. How _right_ it felt to see him there. “It’s a corporate job with great benefits, but I’m bored. I don’t want to work with other corporations. I want to work with people. I want my work to have an impact.” Patrick’s shoulders slumped as he looked over at David. 

Two years ago, David would’ve squeeze Patrick’s shoulder, or pulled him in for a side hug like he had all the times he’d comforted Patrick through his Rachel break-ups or the heart scare with his dad. Or the time Patrick came over to tell David he got a job two hours away and would be moving in a couple of weeks. That night had been the worst of his life until The Incident two years ago. David’s eyes had been red and puffy for days.

“What kind of work would you rather be doing?” As long as he kept Patrick talking, he wouldn’t have to answer any questions about his own life.

Patrick took a slow sip of his tea. David did _not_ notice how good Patrick’s biceps looked in that snug henley. Clearly work wasn’t the only thing occupying his time given the new definition of his arms and chest. “I’ve been thinking about working with small businesses. Consulting maybe? Or a local government job. I don’t know. But something different, for sure.”

“I think you’d be good at that.” David kept his attention on the handmade mug he’d bought from one of his ceramics vendors. “You’re smart about all that stuff and have a way of making people feel, um, heard.” He cleared his throat. “Someone like you would have made the process I had to go through to start my store a lot easier. Dealing with our local guy, Ray, was a nightmare. Nice guy but too chatty and not very organized.” He felt the weight of Patrick’s attention on him. A sensation he never expected to have again.

“What kinds of things did Ray do to help you? Like, what does a person like that do to help businesses in a small town?” Patrick shifted so his back was to the arm of the couch and his knee up on the cushion. So they were going to do the eye contact thing then? Okay.

He turned his head, but kept his body forward. “Ray has like twenty businesses so I don’t know what he’d do if he actually did the business consulting full time. But I went to him for my incorporation paperwork and some other forms. I also went through him to lease the space, but I think that was for his real estate business more than the business consulting. It’s all very confusing.” He took a drink of his coffee. 

As Patrick asked more questions about working with a small town business consultant, David realized he’d turned to mirror Patrick’s position and the questions had shifted to life as a small town business owner. A territory he’d wholeheartedly intended to avoid, but talking with Patrick felt so… so… good. Really fucking good. 

“I never thought I’d end up in a town this small.” David’s coffee was long gone, but he didn’t stop clutching the mug. 

“How did you end up here?” Patrick had abandoned the safety of his mug ages ago and sat on the couch with his usual open body language. David envied him that. Being able to sit there like the last two years hadn’t happened while talking about… that last two years.

 _I was crushed and devastated and not thinking straight so I did something completely out of character to try to forget you?_ “I took a little solo road trip.” Nicer than calling it an existential crisis drive. “It was late and I was too tired to keep going, so I stopped at the motel here. The owner was exceedingly rude, so of course I adored her immediately.” He ignored the deep crinkles at Patrick’s eyes as he laughed. “I stayed a couple of days and got to know the town and some of the people. I guess I needed a change of pace and Schitt’s Creek fit the bill.” He shrugged.

“I gotta say, I didn’t expect to see you in a place this tiny. How long ago did you move here?”

David looked him right in the eyes. He may not be brave, but he could handle passive aggressively bitchy just fine, thanks. “Twenty-three months.”

Patrick winced and looked down at his hands. David let his words settle for a moment before giving them both an out. “More tea?” 

“Got anything harder?”

David blinked at him. The last time they’d drank together had changed everything. 

Patrick studied him for a moment. David couldn’t read him to tell whether he wasn’t drawing the connection or whether he was trying to rewrite the memory. “Sorry. Nevermind. Tea’s great.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m low on stock, but I have red wine. That okay?”

“Perfect.” 

David collected his mug and moved to his wine rack.

“How about I cook us dinner? Do you have stuff?”

David shot him a look. “Yes, I’m a functioning adult and have groceries in my fridge and cupboard, Patrick.” It felt foreign to say Patrick’s name aloud. God, he missed it.

Patrick arched an eyebrow. “That’s new.”

“A lot changed when I moved here.” He shouldn’t get so much satisfaction out of the little barbs, but he did. Like it filled a well Patrick had depleted when he’d dropped David off at the airport after that weekend and never reached out again. David hadn’t either, but at least David had tried to talk to him before the weekend ended to mend whatever had broken between them. Actually, he’d tried at the wedding too, until Rachel had dragged Patrick away for her own talk. 

He sensed Patrick approaching, but he didn’t turn to look. The fridge and cupboards opened around him as he focused on opening the wine bottle. “You’ve built something great here, David. I’m happy for you.”

All David could manage was a nod. Well, nods. It’s like his head had been set on top of a bouncing spring and all he could emote was a too enthusiastic affirmation. 

“It looks like I can whip up a pasta dish. That work for you? Or should I order us some delivery?”

“I doubt anyone will be delivering in this weather. Pasta sounds great.” They shared a small smile. Patrick had cooked for them so many times over the years, under David’s careful supervision, of course. It felt natural. Almost. 

As they spent more time together, the wound in David’s heart began to scab over. It would probably never heal, but maybe they could become friends again. Not like they once were, but the kind of friends who texted an apology that they didn’t have time to stop for coffee when passing by where the other one lived. 

David filled their glasses with deep pours and handed one to Patrick. 

“To blizzards.”

“Cheers.” David clinked his glass. He couldn’t reciprocate that without knowing exactly how much damage Patrick’s sudden appearance in his life would cause. He wasn’t _that_ masochistic. “What tools do you need for the meal? I can pull out the stuff.”

“A pot, pan, cutting board, colander, and knife should do it.”

David buzzed around his kitchen and placed the items on the counter. 

“I’m impressed you have all these.”

“Thanks so much for your confidence in my adulting ability,” David said in his most sarcastic tone. Patrick’s soft laugh tickled up his spine. They both went silent for a moment. He wondered if Patrick was remembering all the times he’d insisted on talking through cooking with David to try to teach him. Patrick had tried to teach him so many things o ver the years.

David leaned against the wall next to the kitchen and watched Patrick work. The area was too small for him to do more than watch. 

“How did you end up opening the store?” Patrick glanced up from breaking up the ground beef sizzling in the pan.

“The previous general store closed down about a year after I moved here. I used a combination of savings and small business grants to make it happen.”

Patrick’s head shot to the side, and he stared at David with wide eyes.

David’s free hand flew up. “What? Did you think I didn’t learn anything in those business classes? Plus, when your best friend is a businessy guy, you’re bound to pick some things up over the years.” He wished his family hadn’t lost their money when he was in high school because that would have come in handy, but nothing beat the satisfaction of building something from scratch with money he’d earned. He understood his dad’s devastation after Eli’s betrayal in an entirely new way. Anyway, if they’d never lost their money and moved in with his grandparents in Ottawa, he’d have never ended up at college with Patrick. Sure, the last two years had been fucking brutal, but he’d never regret meeting Patrick. Patrick’s friendship and (platonic) love and helped shape David into a better person. Someone he actually liked.

Patrick did that lethal doe-eyed thing as his eyebrows slanted down. He looked seconds away from having a quivering chin. 

“Anyway, I somehow managed to pull it off and it’s doing pretty well.”

“That makes me really happy. It’s a great store. It’s very you.” He must have seen David make a face because he rolled his eyes. “It’s a compliment, David.”

“Okay. Well. Thank you.”

Patrick returned his attention to the pot as he dumped in a jar of vodka sauce. “I envy you.”

David snorted. Yeah right.

“Seriously. You’ve figured out what you want to do and are making it happen. I wish I had that courage. And creating your own store in a community like this? I don’t know. It sounds pretty great, actually. I’d love to do something like that.”

He could have. They could have done it together as friends, or more if the kiss had gone differently. David had always sensed something more than friendship between them, but he’d always passed it off as wishful thinking mixed with the intimacy that comes with deep friendship. Not that David had ever had a friendship like the one with Patrick, but he’d assumed that’s what best friends were like. 

But the way Patrick had leaned into their kiss and that sweet little whimper he’d made once their tongues touched and the hard press of his lips like he couldn’t get enough and how he’d pulled David against him like he never wanted to let him go.

Until he did.

Until he took a large step back and rubbed his hands on his face.

Until he looked at David with the most agonized expression. 

Until David ran away and Patrick didn’t go after him.

“Excuse me.” David sat his wine glass on the nearest surface and hurried to the bathroom. He wished he lived in a place with a separate bedroom so he could fall apart in private, not in a bathroom separated from the kitchen by a thin wall. 

Closing the door behind him, David clutched the edges of the sink and hung his head between his shoulders. He willed himself to focus on the Patrick now, not the Patrick of that night that still haunted his dreams. The Patrick of now with a slightly more cautious smile and a bit more reserved like he’s scared he’ll spook David. He should be scared. David is spooked. Very. Spooked. Spooked by how easily all the feelings he’d worked to repress were rising to the surface. 

David splashed water on his face and forced himself not to cry. They had to get through dinner and maybe put on a movie or something then they could go to bed. David could go to the store early and suggest Patrick wait for his tire to get fixed at the cafe. Right? Right. Okay. He blew out a breath. Not wanting to make it completely obvious he’d had a near breakdown, he flushed the toilet and washed his hands. 

As he opened the door and walked back into the kitchen, he caught Patrick swiping at his eye. Without offering a word or a shoulder squeeze or a hug or a kiss to the temple, David walked over and picked his wine back up. 

“How’s that coming along?”

“Right on time, boss. About twenty more minutes.” Patrick’s voice barely cracked. 

If he was more bold, he’d have it out with him. Have the big blowup and awkward conversation and get it all over with, but maybe the time for that had passed. Maybe they both needed to forget the past and move on. “I suppose that’s sufficient. But if it’s longer than twenty-two minutes, I’m docking your pay.”

“I’d better set a timer then.” He winked at David. God, David missed those awkward winks. He put a lid on the sauce and filled a pot with water.

David’s pocket buzzed. 

You still alive?  
  
barely  
  
How’s it going?  
  
Is it too dramatic if I say it’s like slow torture and a car wreck I can’t look away from?  
  
I don’t think you know how to be anything other than dramatic, but it seems warranted in this case  
  
I miss him so fucking much  
  
I’m so sorry  
  
Maybe you should take this opportunity to fix things  
  
I don’t know if this is fixable  
  
He’s there, isn’t he? He didn’t have to come see you. There are plenty of places to stay in the area. Where do his parents live?  
  
Thunder Bay  
  
uh David we’re not really on the way to Thunder Bay unless you take some serious detours  
  
what do you mean  
  
where was he coming from?  
  
Toronto  
  
[screenshot of Google Maps showing Toronto to Thunder Bay]  
  
he came here on purpose  
  
there’s no way he just decides to show up here after two years of silence  
  
only plausible explanation  
  
fuck  
  
FUCK  
  
what does this mean?  
  
you could ask him  
  
give me a reasonable idea please  
  
#adulting  
  
please never again use a hashtag in a text  
  
#okay  
  
when are you heading home? You could join us for dinner and be my buffer  
  
crashing on the motel office couch tonight. Staying close in case there’s any problems in the rooms  
  
fuck you and your responsibility  
  
[shrug emoji] quit texting me and talk to Patrick  
  
[middle finger emoji]  
  
[black heart emoji]  
  
[black heart emoji]  


David slid the phone back in his pocket.

“I don’t mean to keep you from anything, or, um, anyone. I can make myself scarce.” Patrick stared at the pot like it would make the water boil faster.

“Make yourself scarce in my tiny studio?”

“I could go hang out at the cafe across from your store or something.”

“You’re fine. There’s no one.” David looked up at the ceiling for a moment. “I mean, that was my friend Stevie letting me know she’s staying at the motel tonight instead of heading home. She, uh, lives in this building too.”

Patrick looked over at him with a cheeky smile on his face. “I don’t get to meet the woman whose rudeness woo’d you enough to get you to move to a small town in the middle of nowhere?”

There were so many incorrect parts of that statement he didn’t know where to begin. “Maybe next time.” He drank more wine. “Do you, uh, need to check in with anyone? So they know you’re safe for the night? Like your parents or?” Might as well grab a fishing pole and vest for that weak expedition.

Patrick opened a box of pasta. “Nope. There’s no one, I mean. Just, uh, me.”

David shifted them to lighter topics before he began asking questions he wasn’t sure he wanted the answers to.


	3. Chapter 3

“Dinner was great. Thanks for cooking.” It had been a long time since he’d had such a good home cooked meal. He and Stevie made passable dinners, but Patrick legitimate cooking skills. 

“My pleasure. I like cooking for you.”

It didn’t hurt as much that time to think about their former life. “You’re good at it and I always enjoy good food.”

“The perfect audience.” Patrick leaned back against the counter as David washed the dishes. They fell easily into their old routine. 

“I’ve really missed this.”

David froze, halfway through scrubbing a plate.

“I’ve really missed you, David.”

He dropped the plate in the sink, but barely heard the clatter over the heartbeat thundering in his ears. There were so many things he could say. Wanted to say.

_It’s your fault you missed me._

_I should have fought for you. For us. Our friendship._

_I’m sorry we kissed and ruined everything._

_I love you._

_You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve to say that._

_I want you back in my life._

_I’m still so angry at you._

_I’m still so angry at myself._

“Me too.” He let a single tear fall down his cheek while he kept his face away from Patrick. He halfheartedly washed the other plate while he waited for Patrick to continue, but silence swelled and filled all the gaps in his studio. Somehow both comfortable and the most awkward silence of his life. At least it was out there now. A verbal confirmation that things had changed and they were both sad about it.

The screenshot Stevie sent filled his mind like a wallpaper to all his other thoughts. The words froze on the tip of his tongue. _Why did you go out of your way to Schitt’s Creek?_

“How are your parents?”

Easy conversation about Patrick’s parents preparing for retirement and the Rose family drama took them through the rest of the bottle of wine and some hot chocolate. 

“Want to watch something?” David noticed that their feet touched on the couch between them. He kept still to not draw attention to it for fear of Patrick shifting away. 

“Sure. What’s my short list?”

David shook his head. He’d forgotten what it was like to have someone around who knew him so well. Stevie knew him pretty well, but she never cared to notice the little details like how he took his coffee or his thoughts on rom-coms versus love stories or how he liked to sneak spinach into his pasta sauce for a vegetable boost without the work. He couldn’t sit through anything with romance without sobbing or yelling and obviously no sports. “TV shows. True crime, reality baking or _Queer Eye_.”

“Easy. _Queer Eye_.”

David arched an eyebrow. 

“What? It’s a good show.” Patrick stared at him for a long moment as a blush crept up his neck. 

“You’ve watched it?”

“Yup.” Patrick reached over to the coffee table and picked up the Roku remote. 

David supposed that shouldn’t be very surprising. It was an extremely popular show and didn’t have to mean anything. Once again he was looking for clues that weren’t there.

The lights flickered during the second episode. Not a good sign. “Last time the lights flickered like that during a storm, I lost power. I’m going to collect a few things.” He pulled his spare candles out, found his lighters, a headlamp Stevie had bought him as a birthday joke when she’d tricked him into think she was taking him camping (traumatizing), his extra blankets, and his warmest house sweaters. He plugged his cell phone in to charge and saw Patrick do the same. He knocked the heater a few degrees higher as a preemptive strike.

The power lasted through another episode. 

“Well.”

“Guess you called it.”

David stood from the couch to grab a couple of blankets and check the time on his phone. Only a little after eight. He took the blankets back to the couch and passed two to Patrick. “It gets cold quickly when the heater goes off.”

“What about the fireplace?”

“My landlord keeps promising to fix it.” He lit a couple of candles on the coffee table, another on a shelf near the bathroom, one in the bathroom, and another on a nightstand next to his bed. It went from creepy to romantic and intimate. Ugh.

He settled back on the couch and tucked the blankets under his feet and around his shoulders. 

“This reminds me of the time we lost power during that big storm. Remember that?”

David snorted. “I remember you had flashlights but no batteries.”

“And you had all those candles and warm blankets.”

A small smile tugged at David’s mouth. That had been a fun night. Crowded together under a pile of blankets as they drank whiskey. Eventually too drunk to realize how cold they were and how closely they sat under the blankets. “I’m a sucker for warm blankets.”

“You’ve saved my bacon with your blankets twice now.”

“I’m a very generous person.”

And just like that, the dam was broken. They swapped stories about college, their time living near each other before Patrick moved away, the good times they had. All carefully avoiding anything leading up to two years ago or the time since. 

Despite the creeping cold in his studio, David started to feel warm and relaxed. He started to feel like maybe he and Patrick could become friends again. The kind who actually did stop for coffee together when passing through each other’s towns.

Patrick yawned, and David caught it and reciprocated immediately. “Guess the day is catching up with me.”

“Driving in a blizzard sounds exhausting.”

“It was intense.” He untucked from the blankets. “Going to grab a sweatshirt and get ready for bed.”

“Okay.”

“Mind if I use a couple of these? I can fold one up and use it as a sleep mat.”

Fuck! David had been so focused on being in Patrick’s presence that he hadn’t thought about the sleep part of Patrick staying with him. He looked down at the hardwood floors that would probably chill Patrick to the bone and the tiny touch that would probably give Patrick a permanent back injury.

“I’ve got a queen bed. You can take half of it.”

“I’m fine on the floor.”

“You must have been a shit Boy Scout.” He caught the laughing sparkle in Patrick’s eyes. “Didn’t you learn that sleeping on cold ground can give you hypothermia?”

Patrick laughed. “I think I missed that badge. And the couch?”

“We don’t have a chiropractor in Schitt’s Creek, but if you want to risk your spine health, be my guest.”

“Okay, thank you, David.”

“You’re welcome. We’ll be warmer anyway if all the blankets are over there.” He caught the widening of Patrick’s eyes. “Not that we have to share them or anything. I just mean—“

Patrick squeezed David’s shoulder as he passed. “I’m going to get ready for bed.”

David reached up to put his hand over Patrick’s, but held back just in time. The touch was so casual, like how it used to be. Shoulder squeezes and hands to the back while walking through doors and casual half hugs.

After a few deep breaths, David stood and carried all of the extra blankets to the bed. It would probably be warmer if they shared the same ones, but he wasn’t sure that was wise for either of them. He left them piled at the foot of the bed and carried the headlamp over to his dresser to pull out his warmest sleep clothes. 

When Patrick finished in the bathroom, he took his place and made sure to brush his teeth extra thoroughly. Not that he had any plans of sending Patrick running for the hills a second time with a kiss, but if their faces were going to be on the same bed, he damn sure would have minty fresh breath.

Changed into his cozy joggers and warm sweatshirt, he walked into the room and found Patrick sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I wasn’t sure which side you slept on.”

David noticed that he’d unfolded all the blankets and laid them out on the bed. So they were sharing then. Okay. “Uh, that side.” David pointed.

Patrick pulled back the covers on the other side and climbed in. “Toasty.”

When David woke up that morning, he’d expected shit weather, having to take extra care to clean his clothes to prevent snow damage, and some grumpy people coming in to the store. Not even in his wildest dreams would he have ever guessed that he’d be sharing a bed with Patrick Brewer.

He climbed in the bed and kept a respectable distance between he and Patrick.

“Thanks again for putting me up. I’ve- I’ve had a good time tonight.”

“Me too, surprisingly,” David replied. The only two words out of the thousands threatening to tumble out that he could manage. 

Patrick laughed. He appreciated Patrick always handling his snark.

As David settled into position on his back, he realized Patrick hadn’t asked about when the garage opened or what time David needed to go to work or anything. Planner Patrick didn’t seem to be in a hurry to make a plan to get to his parent’s house.

“Goodnight, David.”

“Goodnight, Patrick.” 

Any hint of exhaustion David felt from the stressful day at work and Patrick’s sudden reappearance in his life fled as soon as it was time to sleep. His mind raced and heart pounded as his anxiety tried to process what it all meant. Why Patrick had come to Schitt’s Creek. Why now. Why he hadn’t reached out at all in the last two years. Why he’d acted happy to be around David all evening like things hadn’t changed, but careful enough to acknowledge they had. 

Now that the silence forced him to confront his thoughts more directly than he wanted to, he realized two things.

1\. He was still hopelessly in love with Patrick.

2\. He wanted Patrick back in his life as a friend.

David was prepared for the unrequited love thing. He’d had a decade of practice and had prepared himself for a lifetime of it because he always thought Patrick and Rachel would end up married. He’d expected to be Patrick’s best man and the godfather to their red-headed kids and get accustomed to the constant, dull ache in his chest of being in love with someone who didn’t love him the same way. That would have been fine. 

Loving Patrick in that way had been a gift because David wasn’t sure he’d had the ability to love someone like that. He wasn’t naive enough to expect the first person he loved to love him back. Maybe someday he’d be able to love someone else because of all the practice he got loving Patrick.

But. Still. Why was Patrick in Schitt’s Creek? In David’s bed? The question nagged at him. Burrowed into the deepest crevices in his psyche. Wormed its way into his heart. He had no idea how much time had passed as he tried to wind down and fall asleep. Surely enough for Patrick to be snoring by now, but he could practically hear Patrick’s blinking.

“Patrick, are you awake?” David whispered.

“Yes,” Patrick whispered back. They didn’t need to whisper, but David felt like any overly loud noises would burst the bubble around his bed.

“Schitt’s Creek is out of the way to your parents house.”

Silence stretched for a long moment. “It is.” Patrick’s voice was a little firmer that time.

David gathered every scrap of strength and dignity and self-respect and self-love he could find. “Why are you here?” He stared at the ceiling. Seconds ticked by, but he didn’t dare look at Patrick.

“Because.” Patrick sounded breathy. “Because I missed you and I hate not having you in my life.”

David wrapped his hands tight around his stomach. “Were you even on your way to see your parents?”

“No.”

No. 

“So you came here to-to see me?”

“I did.” Patrick’s voice was firm, confident. “I woke up this morning and Instagram showed me the photo from that weekend and I fell apart. I couldn’t go another day, another year, without talking to you.”

David’s heart fucking pounded. “And you decided to drive out to the middle of nowhere during winter and on a day there’s a blizzard instead of, oh, I don’t know, calling or texting or sending me a DM?”

He felt Patrick’s eyes on him. “For all I knew, you blocked my number. And if I came in person, it would be a lot harder to ignore me.”

David’s mind tried to keep up and continue processing. “I’m going to keep asking questions.”

“I know. I want you to. Ask anything you want.”

He kept his attention on the ceiling. “You decided the best way to get me back into your life is to show up unannounced and corner me into putting you up for the night.”

Patrick huffed out a laugh. “When you put it like that, it sounds creepy.”

“Does it.”

“I was going for a gesture? And I also wasn’t really thinking clearly? I guess I worked on autopilot to get here.”

“A gesture of spending an evening hanging out with me but not actually bringing up why you’re here and making me do all the work.” It felt good to be honest and push Patrick. Really fucking good. 

Patrick rolled to his side, but David stayed on his back. He wasn’t ready to face Patrick. “I guess I hoped the storm would continue tomorrow and you’d have to deal with me for another day. Or that I’d wake up with the nerve to bring it up.”

David was annoyed, but he also had to recognize that Patrick had made a pretty huge effort coming all the way to Schitt’s Creek. If he really wanted Patrick back in his life, he needed to make an effort too. He could have fought for Patrick. Forced them to have a conversation about the kiss back then, but he’d been just as scared. He needed to stop lying to himself and blaming it all on Patrick. Though, to be fair, Patrick _had_ been an asshole. 

He turned on his side. “What do you want?”

David’s eyes had adjusted to the dark and he watched Patrick study him. “You.” 

“I don’t know how to go back to how things were. I’m a different person now, and I was really hurt.” His eyes stung. “Really fucking hurt. It felt like a decade of our friendship meant nothing to you.”

Patrick reached out and found David’s hand. David didn’t pull away, but did have to fight back tears. “I am so sorry I hurt you. I know I reacted poorly.”

“Understatement of the goddamn decade.”

Patrick chuckled awkwardly. “Fair. And I’ve regretted that every day since. I don’t want to go back to how things were though, I want to start fresh with you. I want us to build something together.”

David had ached to hear those words for twelve years, but he knew Patrick didn’t mean them in the way he wanted to hear them. David heard build a _relationship_ , but he knew Patrick meant build a _friendship_. That was okay though, he wanted to be friends with Patrick again. His life was richer with Patrick in it.

“I’m scared,” David whispered. “I’m scared you’ll pull away again. I can’t lose you like that again.” 

Patrick’s hand cupped David’s face, and his thumb gently swept back and forth across the apple of his cheek. “I promise you won’t lose me.”

David closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. “But how do I know?”

Patrick’s hand slid to cup the back of David’s head like it did that night when they kissed. “Because I love you, David. I love you so much,” Patrick’s voice broke. “I have for a long time.”

David pulled back and scrambled to sit up on the bed. “You what?”

Patrick dragged himself to a sitting position next to him. “I love you.” He looked David right in the eyes as he said it with a steady voice.

“I’m going to need you to tell me a little bit more than that before I spiral.”

Patrick reached out and grabbed his hand like he had dozens of times before when helping David through an anxiety spiral or panic attack. “I don’t know where to begin.”

“Fucking anywhere. Start talking, please.” He tugged his sleep shirt away from his neck and tried to swallow through the thickness forming in his throat.

“I’m gay.”

David’s brain short-circuited. “That’s one hell of a place to start.” He wanted to hug Patrick and celebrate his deeper understanding of his identity while also scream for all the tears David had shed thinking he loved his straight best friend.

“I didn’t figure it out until, um, about two years ago.”

David turned to look at him. “What are you saying?”

Patrick bent his knees and tucked them to his chest. “I’ve imagined having this conversation with you so many times and in so many ways. It’s a lot harder to actually say the words.”

“You’ve always been able to talk to me.”

Patrick scoffed. “Yeah, until it really mattered, and I didn’t. I thought I’d lost you forever.” His voice cracked at the end, and David couldn’t stop the tears from falling. “When we kissed, everything changed for me. It was like a key slid into a lock and some sort of box opened and revealed a part of myself I didn’t know was there or didn’t think to look for. But now I know it was always there, but I didn’t recognize it.”

David hauled his own knees to his chest and hugged them as he listened. As he dared to hope. 

“I thought our friendship was what normal best friends were like. That it was normal for best friends to find the other one attractive when they’re objectively gorgeous like you. Or that it was normal for people to want to spend more time with their best friend than their girlfriend. Or that they would rather spend a Saturday night watching movies with their best friend than go on dates. Or they almost turned down their dream job and broke up with their girlfriend because the thought of moving away from their best friend led to multiple panic attacks.”

“Y-you had panic attacks?”

“I did. It should have been a big fucking clue.”

David had thought many of the same things, but at least he’d been able to spot it for what it really meant. He had no idea Patrick had felt the same all those years.

Patrick let out a long breath. “I thought about you all the time and sometimes had dreams about us. Together. I brushed it off as it being a side effect of how much time we spent together or me being frustrated with Rachel. But I know that wasn’t it. When we kissed?” Patrick turned to look at David. “When we kissed, I knew. I knew that it was because you weren’t just my best friend but that I liked you in other ways. Bigger ways.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me? You spent the rest of the trip avoiding me and could barely look at me. And the wedding? You were such an asshole. You could have said something. Anything.” The tears fell fast.

“I was terrified. I spent my whole life assuming I was straight, then in one moment, that entire identity shattered. I-I lashed out. I didn’t know how to handle it, and you took the brunt of it. I’m so sorry, David. I’m so sorry for how I hurt you.” Patrick barely choked the words out between his sobs. “I would completely understand if you never wanted to talk to me again because I didn’t treat you with the respect you deserved or honor our friendship.”

David wrapped an arm around Patrick’s shoulder and pulled him in. He slid his fingers into Patrick’s hair and massaged his scalp as Patrick’s crying ebbed. Scalp massages always calmed him down, and he hoped it worked the same for Patrick. He was struck with an overwhelming urge to learn all the ways to comfort Patrick he hadn’t been able to explore as friends. “That’s a big realization, and it helps me understand your drastic reaction.” Going three decades without knowing that about himself then being smacked in the face with it? Of course Patrick lashed out like that. Patrick had never been strong on the communication front. It all made so much sense. It seriously fucking sucked, but at least David could view everything that happened with a new lens.

David swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’m sorry too. I should have tried harder. I could have reached out a thousand times, but I was scared. I should have fought for you. You deserved that. _We_ deserved that. It was easier to be angry with you than accept some responsibility.”

Patrick draped his arm across David’s lap and gripped his knee. “We both fucked up, but I fucked up more.”

“Is this a competition?”

“Isn’t it always?”

David leaned his head against Patrick’s. “I’ll let you win this one. You fucked up more.”

Patrick squeezed his knee. “It took me a while to come to terms with my sexuality. I’m sure there are stages to it that lots of people go through. I was in denial for a while, definitely anger. I was so fucking angry, David. I’m glad we weren’t talking then. It wasn’t a good time for me.”

“Don’t forget avoidance.”

“Rachel?”

“Yeah.” 

“Last chance grab at heterosexuality, I guess. No, that’s not true. That’s not fair to her. For a while, I thought I was bi. Intellectually, that made a lot of sense to me. How could I be gay if I’d spent most of my adult life in a happy enough relationship with a woman?”

“There are different kinds of happy. You two seemed to have a strong companionship, but I think there is more to a relationship if people want there to be romantic and sexual components.”

Patrick nestled his head further into the crook of David’s shoulder. “I eventually figured that out with the help of a therapist.”

“You went to therapy? Mr. I don’t need a doctor unless a bone is sticking out of my arm _voluntarily_ went to therapy?”

Patrick shifted his body more closely to David. “I knew I couldn’t sort it out on my own. It wasn’t fair to ask Rachel for help and it wasn’t fair to ask you for help after how I’d treated you.” He went silent for a moment. “I started going to weekly therapy a couple months after everything happened. It started with me figuring out my sexuality and learning not to beat myself up for taking so long to figure it out. And then dealing with the anger I felt toward my family and our society for raising me assuming I was straight until I figured something else out. Then working on my communication issues and how I really hate hard conversations.”

“You’re doing pretty well right now.” David felt Patrick smile against his shoulder.

“My therapist is pretty great. But the thread through it all, through every session, was how I feel about you. That I want you back in my life, but I knew I needed to work on myself before I reached out to you. I didn’t want to fuck this up again. I knew I’d be lucky to get one shot at it, and I needed to be ready.”

Warring sensations rolled through David’s body. Nausea at the thought of Patrick waiting to reach out all this time. What if David had met someone and never got a shot with Patrick? Someone David settled for? The thought of that made him ill. But the idea of Patrick taking their possible future so seriously that he prioritized his own mental health? If that wasn’t the sexiest thing David had ever heard. 

“I’m really proud of you.”

“Thanks. It’s been really hard, but worth it. I’m really happy in my own skin for the first time in a long time. Maybe ever. Things I never quite realized were off now feel right.”

“What did your therapist say about pining after your best friend? Surely they advised you against that. I mean, if you want to share. No pressure.” _Please share._

Patrick squeezed David’s knee again. “She was very pro you. Well, how I always felt around you. She helped me realize how I’m my best self when you’re in my life. You push me to be a better person. I feel like a better person when I’m around you.”

David closed his eyes and wrapped Patrick’s words around himself like a wool blanket. “I feel the same about you. Since that first day of business 101 actually.”

Patrick’s head snapped up. “Seriously?”

“I knew you’d be trouble. A smartass in cheap jeans teasing me about my satchel and clothes who turned so goddamn needy when the tables were turned and he sat next to me in art class.”

“You have no idea how happy I was to see you in that class. I thought my heart was going to beat out of my chest.”

“Really?”

“I was so stupid. I should have known something was different. That there was more to me than I realized. More to us.”

“It’s okay.” It wasn’t, not really, but it would be.

Patrick sat up and grabbed David’s hands. “I know I showed up out of the blue and have dropped a nuclear bomb on your life with this. I will go to therapy with you. Keep going on my own. Both. Whatever it takes to figure this out and make us work.” Patrick sucked in a shaky breath. “If that’s what you want. I only want this, want us, if you do too. I know it’s wildly unfair of me to march in here on my own timeline and expect you to—“

David hauled Patrick into him and kissed him. Kissed him like he’d wanted to for twelve years. Kissed him like it was their first kiss. Kissed him like he knew Patrick would kiss back and not run. Because he knew Patrick wouldn’t this time.

“I love you too,” David said against Patrick’s lips. “I love you so fucking much, Patrick Brewer. I want us too. Let’s figure it out.” 

They held each other the rest of the night and made up for two years of missed kisses. The next day, Patrick helped David around the store and they started talking about Patrick moving to Schitt’s Creek. That night, Patrick cooked dinner for David and Stevie, and David didn’t even mind the imbalanced social dynamic of how quickly his two favorite people teamed up to tease him. A month later, Patrick was officially moved to Schitt’s Creek and they were thriving, thank you very much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm over on Tumblr at [lisamc-21](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/lisamc-21).

**Author's Note:**

> Update after initial posting: I'm working on a companion to this from Patrick's POV thanks to a brilliant suggestion in the comments! Hoping to have that ready in early February.


End file.
